


Comfort

by orphan_account



Series: Comfort [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-28
Updated: 2013-03-28
Packaged: 2017-12-06 17:37:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/738318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo gets attacked by a dwarf and Thorin looks after him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Attack

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Syxx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syxx/gifts).



> Omfg, sobbing because I accidentally deleted it, and didn’t have any backups, so I’ve had to rewrite it. My deepest apologies to Syxx!

Bilbo was lost. It wasn’t his fault. It was those damn winding streets of Erebor. He’d tried to affiliate himself with them, as was his duty as Consort to King under the Mountain, but he just couldn’t do it. He supposed it might have been the lack of sunlight, even in his Hobbit Hole back in The Shire there was more sunlight.

He passed by one of many inns, filled with life and raucous laughter, and briefly considered going inside and asking for directions. He was supposed to be home a while ago, so he assumed they would be looking for him.

A drunken dwarf staggered out of the inn now, grinning when he caught sight of Bilbo. He slurred something to him that he didn’t understand, but Bilbo was certain it was something incredibly rude.

Uncomfortable, he pushed past the inn, deciding against asking for directions.

He heard the footsteps and the loud breathing of the dwarf behind him and quickened his pace, but the trouble with being a Hobbit in the land of Dwarves was that they had longer legs so they could easily catch up with him. Gloin was always telling him that Dwarves were natural sprinters. A heavy arm was thrown over his shoulder.

“Hello, pretty,” the stranger slurred, breath reeking of ale. “Where are you off to?”

“Home, thank you,” Bilbo replied curtly.

“You look like you could use some company.”

“I am in no need of company-”

The dwarf swept down now, cutting Bilbo's protest off, wet lips smacking against his cheek, pressing his weight fully against him.

Bilbo, almost toppling over, pressed his hands to the dwarf’s chest and _pushed_. The tactic seemed to work effectively, albeit only for a minute.

The dwarf stumbled backwards before launching himself at Bilbo, fisting his tunic in one hand.

Bilbo hadn’t been expecting a smack to the face, the pain shooting up his jaw. He fell to the side with the force of the hit; landing on the ground, eyes stringing with tears of pain, lip throbbing.

He struggled to get back to his feet, to run away, but a heavy boot stepped on his hand, crushing it.

Bilbo cried out, yanking it away and cradling it to his chest

“Who do you think you are, you beardless whelp?” he sneered, landing a solid blow to Bilbo’s ribs. “ _The King_?”

It was all Bilbo could to do cover his face and cry out in pain.

“Hey, stop that! Get off of him!” Thank _Mahal_ someone heard his yelling. The sound of heavy footsteps filled the air and one pulled the dwarf off of him while the other knelt down to see if he was alright.

Blackness washed over Bilbo, and he sank slowly into unconsciousness.

 

 


	2. Rage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I threw in some overprotective Fili and Kili for good measure.

When consciousness flooded back into Bilbo’s system, he was in his warm bed with familiar voices surrounding him.

 “…would have been a lot worse if those miners hadn’t of found him when they did.” _Oin_.

Bilbo groaned, eyes flicker open to reveal the roof of his bedroom.

“Bilbo!” Kili leant over him anxiously, “We were worried you weren’t going to wake up!”

“Don’t be silly, Kili, he was knocked unconscious, not stabbed by an Orc.”

“Shut up, Fili, you were worried, too.”

“How did I get here?” Bilbo croaked, trying to move and wincing when his ribs ached in protest. The ache spiked with each thump of his heartbeat.

He pressed a hand softly to his face, feeling the rough skin there that had broken when he’d been hit. His mouth tasted of dried blood, an uncomfortable feeling he didn't want to experience again.

“Some miners heard you calling out and pulled the guy off of you. He ever-so-bravely ran away while they were making sure you were alright,” Kili sneered. “What happened? Why were you near the inns when you were just going to the markets?”

Bilbo let his head fall back against the pillow as he spoke. “I got lost, must have taken a wrong turn on my way back here. He started following me, and when I brushed him off he got angry.”

“Did you know who he was?”

Bilbo shook his head. “No, he was a complete stranger.”

“Didn’t he recognize you?” Fili was frowning now.

“Obviously not. He called me a ‘ _beardless whelp_ ’.”

Kili shot to his feet in outrage. “How dare he speak to the Consort of the King in that way!”

“His tongue should be removed.” Fili added.

“He should be stripped and flogged in the street,” Thorin fumed.

“Enough of that,” Bilbo sighed. “You can’t help it. People attack each other all the time. It’s just a split lip, and-”

“ _Just a split lip_?” Bilbo sagged into the bed a little at Thorin's tone. “Leave us.” Thorin ordered the others.

“But Uncle-”

“ _Now_."

The boys obeyed, getting to their feet and silently leaving the room, Oin following close behind.

“Alright,” Bilbo sighed once the door clicked closed behind him and struggled to sit up. “Of course I don’t like being attacked by people- no one does, but we can’t help it. Besides, it was alright in the end, wasn’t it? Someone heard me and came to help.”

“Two miners helping you does not make this situation any better. Granted, if they hadn’t of showed up you would have been in much worse condition, and for that I am thankful. But that doesn’t change the fact that this…” Thorin growled some word in Khuzdul, obviously a rather un- _kingly_ insult, “attacked you and he could do it again.”

“I should be able to look after myself, Thorin. I should be able to do something a simple as make my way home.” He recalled Kili and Fili offering him self defense lessons, and lamented over how he should have accepted. That would have been useful.

“You should not _have_ to defend yourself. As much as I wish for you to be able to walk comfortably on your own, Erebor is still in the process of being rebuilt. We are not stable yet.”

Bilbo heaved a sigh.

“Describe him to me,” Thorin demanded.

“What? So you can arrest and execute him? I don’t think so.”

Thorin simply gave a role of his eyes. “Tell me,” he ordered, tone brokering no argument.

“I couldn’t describe him if I wanted to- I really couldn’t!” he insisted upon seeing Thorin’s disbelieving expression. “I really don’t remember what he looked like. It was dark and I was just trying to leave without him noticing.” Bilbo looked down, fiddling with the blanket.

He noticed Thorin’s fists clench and unclench, and he was very clearly trying not to punch a wall.

“He dared to touch you- for that alone I ought to snap all his fingers and break his jaw.”

“You will most certainly not do that,” at Bilbo’s chiding tone, Thorin seemed to relax a bit.

“I could just break his legs,” Thorin offered, looking down at his Consort, “if that would make you feel any better.”

He crossed his arms over his chest now, glowering, though it was nothing to the one Thorin gave him in return. “No it would not.”

He stared at Bilbo for some time, still frowning, his lips pursed. “Settle for a broken nose?” he said at last.

Bilbo felt his lips twitch in amusement. He had to admit, it was a nice thought, the crunching of a bone breaking in the middle of the bastards face.

Thorin reached out to touch him, his movement sudden and despite himself, Bilbo flinched.

“You wish for me to leave?” he slowly lowered his hand, shoulders tense.

“No, no,” Bilbo sighed, reaching out and wrapping his fingers around Thorin’s wrist. “Stay.”

Relaxing, Thorin climbed over the bed to settle beside him. Bilbo snuggled into his side, resting his head on his shoulder, feeling weary and sore.

“I will find him.” Thorin informed him now. “And I’ll break every bone in his body, starting with the smaller, more painful ones.”

“M’kay,” Bilbo sunk against him, too tired to argue. He inhaled deeply, finding comfort in the familiar smell of Thorin, and fell asleep to the contented feeling of his hair being stroked softly.

 

 


	3. Recovery (and some revenge)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go: final chapter! I didn't really feel like writing a torture scene, and it was getting a bit lengthy, but I hope it's an alright ending, Syxx!

Bilbo woke the next morning feeling like he’d gone ten rounds with a brick wall. His whole body ached, he had trouble keeping his eyes open, and when he breathed in it felt like his ribs were closing in on him.

Thorin tended to Bilbo’s wounds gently, Oin having directed him on what to do, and stayed by his side while he rested, leaving his duties to Fili for the day.

“You can go, Thorin,” Bilbo had said. “You are a King, I understand if you need to get things done.”

“Nonsense. I have others who can undertake my role for a few hours; the members of the Royal Hall are aware of the situation.”

Bilbo grumbled, but was glad Thorin stayed with him.

Around midday Bombur brought up two large bowls of stew and a whole load of bread, which Bilbo laughed at.

“Are you sure that’s enough for the both of us?” he’d joked. Though dwarves ate like machines, Thorin didn’t feast as much as the rest of the company. Besides, Bilbo found it hard to eat with a split lip and a throbbing jaw.

Bombur, however, frowned, having not understood the joke. “I can bring up more if you’d like…” he began, looking down at the food. “I was going to bring more, only, Balin directed me as to how much I should bring up."

“No, Bombur, it’s fine. This is enough. Thank you.”

Partway through their meal, Thorin set his spoon down and looked up at him.

“I’ve sent some guards out with the miners who found you to look for the rogue dwarf.” He said it so casually, but Bilbo knew it was anything but.

“Do you really think you’ll find him?”

“I’m certain of it. It’s only a matter of time.”

Bilbo sighed. “Promise me you won’t do anything rash.”

“Like?” Thorin wondered.

“Like killing him,” Bilbo elaborated.

“Now, Bilbo, do you really think I’m the kind of person to-?”

“Yes.” Bilbo answered immediately.

Thorin cracked a small smile. “Fine. I promise there will be no killing or horrible maiming. Does that make you feel better?”

Bilbo shrugged. “Slightly."

“Good. Now eat,” he tapped the edge of the bowl in Bilbo’s hands with his knuckles.

The sun was beginning to set when Dwalin knocked on the door, quietly whispering something to Thorin. It wasn’t the visit that made Bilbo suspicious, Dwalin showed up all the time when Thorin’s presence was needed. But the whispering tipped him off that something was going on.

“I’ll be back soon, Bilbo,” Thorin informed him, gently kissing him on the head before disappearing out the door with Dwalin.

Pursing his lips, he shuffled out of the bed and padded across the room, pulling open the door.

The hall was empty.

He found them one of the meeting halls, along with Fili, Kili and one of the miners who had helped him the other night.

“You found him, then.” Bilbo spoke up, his arms crossed over his chest.

“We did.”

“And you’re sure it’s him?” he asked.

“Certain,” the miner assured him, nodding.

“That will be all, Odo, thank you,” Dwalin put a hand on the miners shoulder and led him out of the room.

“Were you lot planning on telling me about this?” he asked the three of them now.

“We were, Bilbo, we promise. Just that you would have gotten upset that we want to punish him.”

“He did something wrong, he needs to bear the brunt of the consequences.”

“Of course he does, but I know that look," he pointed at them now, "the Mad Durin Look, and that means you’re going to get carried away with it.”

Thorin simply rolled his eyes.

“Well, what do _you_ want, Uncle Bilbo?”

“I _want_ you to let him go.” Silence descended in the room. “He was a drunken fool. I’m sure he’d learnt his lesson now. If you must keep him jailed for a few days, but for the Maker’s sake don’t injure the man.”

“You forgive too easily,” Thorin complained gruffly.

“And you don’t forgive enough,” Bilbo informed him.

Thorin was silent for some time, considering his words. “If that is what you wish for,” he said slowly, “then that is what we’ll do.”

Bilbo felt his shoulders sag. “Thank you.”

“You should go and rest,” Thorin brushed a finger lightly over his healing lip. “I have a few more things to deal with and then I’ll join you.”

“Alright.”

“Are you really going to let him go, Uncle?” Kili asked after Bilbo had gone

“Bilbo feels that the best option. So I’m going to go down to his cell and break his hands for daring to touch my Consort.” Kili gave his uncle a wide grin. “Then I’ll let him go.”

But Bilbo didn’t need to know that.

 

 


End file.
